Mourning Susan Tsvangirai

April 17, 2009

Early last month the Prime Minister of Zimbabwe, Morgan Tsvangirai, was injured in a car accident when his four-wheel-drive collided head-on with a lorry near the capital of Harare. His wife of 31 years, Susan Tsvangirai, died at the scene.

I'm not sure what it was about the accounts of her death but it prompted me to do a bit of reading about Susan and Morgan and was soon touched by the obvious strength of their union.

According to The Independent, Morgan first saw Susan in 1976 when he was a foreman at the mines in Bindura and she was visiting an uncle. "He reportedly nudged the friend who was walking next to him and declared 'That is the girl I am going to marry!'"

Since their marriage in 1978, which bore six children, Susan was by all accounts Morgan's rock as the then-opposition leader survived an assassination attempt, was imprisoned, endured a lengthy treason trial, was badly beaten and this year was shoe-horned into a power-sharing agreement with his long-time foe President Robert Mugabe.

(According to The Independent, the joke doing the rounds in Zimbabwe says that the reason Tsvangirai was brought into the government was so Mugabe "could shoot him from point blank range.")

I reckon Susan Tsvangirai must have been a pretty remarkable woman, who will be dreadfully missed by her husband and for some reason her story and passing really brought home to me just how traumatic it must be to lose your one and only; the person you were put on this earth to walk with ...

I know when my father died, my step-mother pretty much said "well that's it for me" when it came to romance.

Yes, she's since had other relationships but she's told me she never expects anyone to eclipse the love of her life, Gus de Brito.

I know it's not always this way with marriages and people do tend to idealise a partner when they're taken prematurely, but I've seen the look in her eyes when she talks about their love: it's heartbreaking.

It seems so rare for people to truly find that "one", and to be so lucky, then have it effaced by cancer or a car crash or murder ... it makes you question the concepts of an orderly universe and a just God.

I've talked before about Gordon Livingston's beautiful little book Too Soon Old, Too Late Smart because it's just so full of wise words from a man who's been through some heavy Chevy.

A parent twice bereaved, in one 13 month period Livingston lost his oldest son to suicide and his youngest to leukaemia and described it as "a lesson in helplessness and humility and survival."

I imagine this is very close to how Morgan Tsvangirai felt as he watched his wife, affectionately known as Amai Edwin, die on that road. I know it's what my step-mum experienced as cancer claimed my dad.

Says Livingston: "After being stripped of any illusions of control I might have harboured I had to decide what questions were still worth asking. I quickly realised that the most obvious ones - Why my sons? Why me? - were as pointless as they were inevitable. An appeal to fairness was absurd."

"Like all who mourn I learned an abiding hatred for the word 'closure', with its comforting implications that grief is a time-limited process from which we all recover. The idea that I could reach a point when I would no longer miss my children was obscene and I dismissed it."

What Livingston did learn is that there is "no way around grief; you just have to go through it."

A lot of people run from grief when it visits, through drugs and booze in particular, but the simple fact is it's still gonna be there when the hangover clears - even weeks and months later.

I'm not sure how Morgan Tsvangirai is coping with the loss of his wife. No doubt he's got his hands full trying to save his country as it collapses back into the Stone Age and that'll keep his mind occupied for most of the day.

But he's got to close the door and be alone sometime. I'd wager grief breaks across his chest like an Arctic tide when he gets home at night and Susan's not there to greet him, not lying in bed to hold him.

I hope I never have to go through that.

SINGLE MEN WANTED
Got an email from Bondi Surf Club yesterday with a SOS for dudes. The club is having a massive single's party this Saturday night (the 18th), which you can suss here. However, they've been overwhelmed with women buying tickets (no joke) and need more blokes to attend.

If you're up for a bevvy at one of the coolest spots in Sydney, send an email to Jacob and mention All Men Are Liars. If you're one of the first ten men you'll get your ticket, valued at $35, for free. All monies raised go to Bondi Surf Club (of which I'm not a member, I'm at North Bondi).

If you'd like to email me with a topic suggestion or just vent, try here. I now have too many unanswered emails to catch up on, so I'm instituting a no-reply policy. In advance, I thank you for your email.

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Recent comments

e

April 16, 2009

05:20 PM

Your empathy for your stepmother is touching. I know too many of my contemporaries who are too lost in their own pain when they lose a parent that they are incapable of perceiving the loss that others are experiencing.

I do not look forward to the day that I lose the love of my life. Either way, either he or I will suffer.

N

April 16, 2009

05:21 PM

All things being equal, the odds of your beloved dying before you are not insignificant... which is a good reason to make every day count + make sure that you relish all the time that you have with them on this earth. It sounds trite, but all your need is to have a loved one have a slight dalliance with death, and it gives new urgency to that philosophy. My Dad went through the brain tumor thing a few years ago, and, as he says now, "every day is a bonus". It sucks about your Dad, Sam. I'm sorry.

I agree that grief is a process that you have to go through; delaying tactics (drugs, alcohol, risk-taking behaviour) are just that... nothing replaces going through what some psychs refer to as "the seven stages of grief", one of which is indeed having shards ripped from your soul in a maelstrom of anguish (although I think it's technically described a bit differently!)

I think back to the people I know who have suddenly sickened and died within days or weeks of their partner dying... history is full of examples of lost love killing people. But there are also a heck of a lot of people who get through it and go on to continue to tread a happy path through life's rich tapestry.

I can't believe that I'm going to quote arguably the most wimpish of the Romantic Poets, but Keatsy Baby was right in that he said that such despair is the risk you run when you love someone:
"aye, in the very temple of Delight
veiled Melancholy has her sovereign shrine
Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue
can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine;
His soul shall taste the sadness of Her might,
and be among Her cloudy trophies hung."

brutta bagascia

April 16, 2009

05:26 PM

That was a lovely post, but do you really mean that you never want to go through that? You mean that you hope it would be you to go first? Or that you both die together at the same time, say in a plane crash? Or that you don't want to have children because of the anguish you might feel if they died before you? Welcome to life. I think that Morgan Tsvangirai is lucky to have had his Susan for 31 years, lovingly; he almost got the opportunity to die with her.

Some horrible shit happens in life, true, but we never lose our loved ones because they travel with us in the dreaming, maybe?

Still doesn't ease the burden, not like beer anyway.

diamondback

April 16, 2009

07:49 PM

.....just how traumatic it must be to lose your one and only; the person you were put on this earth to walk with ... Sam.

Unfortunately, I know exactly how that feels. And Livingston is right, you can't avoid grief. You have to go through it or you'll self-destruct.

mish

April 16, 2009

08:04 PM

I lost my brother, my fiancé and my dad in the space of 18months. Car accidents & cancer.
Think I was numb for about 5 yrs, but yeah I’ve learnt you have step out and embrace your grief. Thomas Moore wrote a book Dark Nights of The Soul - it helped me face my demons.
I live my life in their honour now, not for my pain.

popeye

April 16, 2009

08:33 PM

Would be all the more difficult for Tsvangirai knowing that he was the one that was supposed to be murdered. No time to say goodbye under those circumstances.If he eventually becomes the real leader of Zimbabwe let's hope it is for the people.

Although I have no wife or children I have observed the grief people go through when losing a life partner or child. Even more devestating so in the case of suicide as experienced by Gordon Livingston. I have done the cowardly thing a couple of times and not attended funerals so as to avoid the despair of people. At the end of the day life goes on because it has to, just not the same as before.

I reckon your old man would have had some great stories to tell about his SA days, back in the days when journalists could report the 'whole' truth, often at own personal risk as you describe. Sort of stuff they turn into movies.

Elizabeth

April 16, 2009

09:20 PM

Mish: I am sorry to read of your losses and I hope life is good to you.

I lost my husband to cancer when my children were quite young. I can't say I embraced my grief but you certainly can't escape it. I remember having to go into a kind of survival mode because I still had to function for my children.

His death had so many repercussions for us - particularly my son. It made me realize how important a good male role model is for a growing boy. Unfortunately his only memory of his father is during the last months of his illness. My daughter was 14 months at the time of his death and has no memory of him although she keeps a photo of him in her bedroom which pleases me.

Sorry to wallow. Normally I just get on with life. Anyway, life can still be good.

Daniel

April 16, 2009

09:29 PM

I wonder if it feels so bad, that you're better off having not entered into the relationship?

Lotus

April 16, 2009

10:26 PM

Posted by: mish on April 16, 2009 8:04 PM

I cannot even imagine. I'm overwhelmed even reading about that, and I'm so sorry.

This post describes something I'm thinking a lot about these days. My mum is very sick and I'm so worried about my dad. My sister's convinced he'll lose the will to live if she goes. I can only hope he'll find it within himself to keep going, because there's only so much we can do or say to support and motivate him. I hope he's strong enough.

Yvonne

April 16, 2009

10:42 PM

Daniel - don't they say it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?

Phillipa

April 16, 2009

10:54 PM

When I heard about the death of Mrs Tsvangirai I thought about how cruel life sometimes is. His grandson also died recently in a pool drowning. It takes a strong person to get out of bed when their lifelong companion passes, let alone try and drag a country from the brink of collapse. I also think of how Asif Ali Zardari felt after Benazir Bhutto was assassinated, and then he had to step in and become prime minister of Pakistan.

sunny

April 16, 2009

11:08 PM

uh... is surviving assassination like surviving electrocution?

More seriously... great post Sam. And going back and reading the one about Gus... I wonder if back when I first read it, I appreciated it as much as I now do... When you wrote that, my mum was still alive.

It's so sad how little we appreciate this stuff when we have it. Not that everybody takes everyone for granted - some are better about it than others - but there are always wasted moments, so many of them, moments spent fighting, multitasking, doing things that are unimportant instead of spending time with them... and yet when you lose the person, you wish you'd just spent every moment together loving them and being fully with them and making them happy.

I hope it never happens to me too. I used to say that I'd try to marry a man 10 years younger than me because men tend to die 10 years earlier, and I didn't want to be the one left behind. As it turns out I went 10 years in the wrong direction.
But I wonder if I'd be strong enough to cope if it did happen that way.

I also have/had fears about having my first child. I'm so much more vulnerable now. I now have another person apart from my husband, who, if something happened to, I would be wrecked beyond comprehension. I don't even know if it's worth it. If I survive her - yeah I'm sure it will have been. If not?

"Better to have loved and lost than never have loved at all..."... sometimes I wonder if that's true.

Mich, Elizabeth... I'm so sorry. You guys are very strong. I don't even think I could get through what you have.

far away

April 16, 2009

11:09 PM

"I have done the cowardly thing a couple of times and not attended funerals so as to avoid the despair of people"

Posted by: popeye on April 16, 2009 8:33 PM

Sorry to state the obvious, but that really wasn't the best step. I am sure that some people wallow, but I know that when we were dealing with my sibling's death, we tried really hard not to demand too much of those who were good enough to support us and brave enough to share their own grief. I have a special place in my heart for those who stepped up then, in the myriad ways they did.

We all have our way of getting through the phases of grief, but I think that one of the things that helped the initial fog to clear for me was the fact that there were others mourning too. There was no ownership, but a shared loss, which has brought some of us together. Love and family (chosen or biological) are community things, which need community support, and loss, at least for me, is better managed when done in that context.

I find, as maybe others don't, that talking of the people I have lost as real presences in my life, is a way of moving the grief around, and of celebrating their lives.

There are people who find it macabre to learn that the subject of a funny story from my childhood is now ashes, but...well, it is the way of my family and it does help me.

I don't know that I have done much imposition of 'dispair', but the fact that most good friends have been receptive to my need not to erase the memory of my sib has confirmed that they are truely good friends worth the name.

Funerals can be lovely things, although sad, and - quite frankly - even if they are not, it isn't too much to ask that the people we care about put themselves out for an hour and share in a rite that has meaning for some of us at a dark time.

I have flown across the world for a wedding, and I would do the same for a funeral if appropriate. It can mean everything to the ones who are important, then: the living.

firstday

April 16, 2009

11:26 PM

My fourth child was a bit of a miracle, after my wife was told she was going into an early manopasue and would not be able to have any more children, when we both wanted another one to round out our family.
So we were totally surprised when she found out she was pregnant, ironically on April 1 a few years back.
Alexander was born in July, a few weeks before he was due, but appeared to be perfectly healthy until a few days later an allergy developed that was mismanaged by doctors, leading to further complications and eventually his death due to meningitis on the day he was supposed to be born.
He lived for just 33 days, and spent all but a couple of those in hospitals - our local one in country NSW and specialist children's hospitals in Sydney where I did not leave his side other than to sleep.
The grief was terrible when he died, but for me the only way to deal with it was to endure it, and to quickly find my own way out of the tunnel for the sake of my wife and other children, who were also suffering.
In the process I learned the only way that I could deal with the situation was through being grateful for the time I spent with my son, rather than focusing on the loss.
It was all about attitude, which is probably the most powerful thing in the world.
Five years on there are occasional days when I don't think of him, but these days I consider him to be a shooting star, whose light dazzled and delighted for a short time, leaving me thankful for having seen it, rather than mourning its passing.

Matt

April 16, 2009

11:45 PM

Talking from experience it is as the saying goes, better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. I have nothing but the highest regard for Morgan Tsvangirai given the adversity and suffering that he has endured and taken on to further his country and people much of which he has chosen for the benefit of others! I almost cried when I read in the SMH that his wife had died! Serious props to you Morgan!

Bereaved@32

April 16, 2009

11:45 PM

I lost my partner just over 3.5 years ago. While time eases the sharp pain of grief of losing the love of your life, it doesn't help the questions about whether one will ever find love again. I'm only 35 now, but it feels like I'm "done" in the love stakes, even so many years afterwards once all the healing happens and you pick up the pieces of your life and move forward.

I read stories where the older bereaved "find love again" and I wonder how that happens at my age, where the inevitable questions of "so you were married, when did you split up?" come up in conversation.... people don't mean to be awkward, and I understand it's a natural question, but it brings up ever more awkward questions, that small chit chat around past relationships becomes taboo, and therefore looked on almost suspiciously!

As my mum once empathised with me, as I was crying inconsolably "you're too young to be a widow."

It is a horrible thing to bury a partner, at any age. Thanks for the sensitive post, Sam.

Dion

April 17, 2009

12:30 AM

Last year I lost my beloved wife of 19 years to cancer and it was and still is too hard, but for all that the 20 years in total that we were together were an honour and privilege far in excess of anything I deserved.

She was out of my league in every way and it was always a mystery to me that she chose to spend the rest of her life with me.

The only thing that has kept me from walking off one of the immediately adjacent cliffs is that we have three wonderful, if challenging, teenagers whom I am responsible for and to.

Our first Easter without her has passed and it felt typical of occasion and calendared item, every new rite of passage or marker of the seasons within the year or the flow of our years – it was empty and pointless.

The first six months blurred with booze, anti-depressants, sleeping pills and meaningless sex. We were married in a Catholic Church and were true to the Faith and to each other, I used to think when I was at University during the early 80's that the sexual revolution had passed me by, but while we were married I was perfectly happy in our Union.

As a middle-aged widower I'm mildly shocked at how morally loose women have become over the last 2 decades, or maybe it just middle aged women have no hang ups, while it was sometimes vaguely therapeutic it mostly left me empty and feeling disappointed in myself. Also I felt as if I was cheating on my wife.

I can't really move on, I know there is a natural tendency to idolise those we eulogise, but in my wife's case she was simply extraordinary, she was radiant, she literally lit up the room and illuminated every facet of my life, I did not know how lucky I was but I do now and will love her always.

I have a steady girlfriend now and once again a woman who is too good for me has become attached and while I am fond of her in her own right I can sense her pain at my underlying lack of emotional availability and frequent detachment.

This is the main aspect is that you cannot sustain unendurable pain and thus become dead inside, you exist as a hollow man, a pallid reflection of a shell living the charade of someone else's life, as if you were watching your life externally a 2-dimensional movie projected on someone else's wall, you exist yet unending grief leaves the surviving as the living dead.

But I loved once a woman who deserved to be idolised, who told me on her death bed not to idolise me on her passing but to live for life and to love again and with every well meaning admonishment to move on without her and find happiness swirled contrary currents.

One day I may love again as I feel incomplete without it. It is a pang to return to each night to an empty marital bed and while I have got off alcohol, antidepressants and sleeping pills I still do not sleep well and between my fitful bouts of wakefulness my dreams are fraught and haunted.

We lost a child early in our marriage and I failed to take on the lesson in that about the transience of life. I regret the early years where I was more devoted to building my career and acquiring wealth than I was our marriage, but to me at the time it seemed that time was indefinite and that we would in time make time and catch up in our golden years.

These never came – make the most of what of you have now as if there was no tomorrow because one day there won't be.

Dion

LB

April 17, 2009

12:34 AM

A thoughtful and well-written post as always Sam

I've watched my dad struggling to come to terms with the loss of his beloved wife a few years ago -a woman who died way before her time from an illness that she defied the statistical odds to get. As much as I am still deeply grieving and in pain over the loss of my wonderful mother, I don't think I have any depth of the understanding of what it must be like to lose your lover and soulmate. My deepest and sincerest thoughts, prayers, condolences and sympathies to those who have experienced this

Sadly for Morgan Tsvangirai, he has had to endure yet more tragedy since his wife died. This past month he has also lost a grandson who drowned in the family swimming pool a few weeks after his wife passed away. I cannot imagine the pain and sadness that he must be going through at the moment

For what it's worth, Robert Mugabe also lost his wife of 31 years, Sally Mugabe, to kidney failure in 1992. From all accounts Robert and Sally Mugabe had a close and loving relationship and she played an influential role in decision-making during the first twelve years of his presidency. Apparently, some of his colleagues believe that the loss of his wife started his descent into excessive misrule and violent dictatorship that is sadly so evident in Zimbabwe today

Eric um-Bist

April 17, 2009

01:13 AM

Looking at the photograph you see a woman of radiance. Such a shame she's gone.

JEQP

April 17, 2009

02:46 AM

"It seems so rare for people to truly find that "one", and to be so lucky, then have it effaced by cancer or a car crash or murder ... it makes you question the concepts of an orderly universe and a just God."

I hear this a lot, but terrible things happen all the time -- just maybe not to us. When people change their world view because something bad happens to them I have to conclude that they either hadn't been paying attention all their lives or thought it was OK for bad things to happen to other people, but not to them. My wife is my soul mate and if something happened to her I'd be devasted, but it wouldn't change my world view.

The death of Susan Tsvangirai is a terrible thing, both for Morgan and for Zimbabwe. There's no way Morgan could have achieved what he has without the strong support of a wife that shared his dream, and I hope he finds the strength to see that dream through.

Jano

April 17, 2009

03:21 AM

I know this topic is talking about loss through death however i recently "lost" my partner through divorce. I still call this a loss because of how suddenly the split occurred. I was still very much in love with my ex when the split occurred and for a long time could not contemplate thinking of the future when my ex had been so much a part of those thoughts.

I think many people would also be in the same boat as myself. Of course death is different but the grief associated with the loss of a partner or a future with that person can be all consuming regardless of the cause.

Sooner or later i also had to face up to the fact that searching for a why was a futile excercise. The most important thing was the focus on determining what i wanted in life and to continue building that future - that is what gets you through the grief. While grief cannot be avoided, doing it alone is not the best way. I have been lucky as my family and friends were an amazing support for me.

you trickster

April 17, 2009

05:19 AM

Daniel@9:29PM

They had 31 years. That's a third of a(knock on wood)lifetime. What do you mean if it feels that bad maybe it wasn't worth it? That's like saying if life feels so bad (because for everyone it inevitably feels bad at times)maybe life isn't worth it. And that I believe was your point, you trickster. Unless of course, I have mistaken you for someone with a measurable IQ.

Perplexio

April 17, 2009

05:59 AM

My paternal grandfather died in 1951 at age 48. My father was only 17 and his mother never remarried. She went on to join her late husband in the early 80s.

My maternal grandfather died in 1984 at age 74, my grandmother lived to 93, but she never even considered re-marrying.

The older couples I know who have lost their lifelong mate and remarried, have done so more to escape loneliness and usually they've married someone else who has also lost their lifelong partner. They share in each others grief and provide companionship, friendship, and physical affection. But each of them knows that at the core of it, they're merely keeping one another company as they bide their time waiting for the end.

.

April 17, 2009

06:59 AM

Brilliant topic, Sam. Too many angles to cover. Longevity in love, the "one", loss, grief, the Livingstone quote on illusions of having control in the this life. One of the topics you have presented that I want to chew on for awhile.

I do agree with your thoughts on people idealising a partner, taken prematurely. I wonder if it's idealising the partner, or the idealism of youth, having not really experienced life, or idealising the idea of marriage, itself.

dreaming

April 17, 2009

07:02 AM

Oh, to be loved like that.

RoyB.

April 17, 2009

08:18 AM

As attributed to Breaker Morant, at least in the movie: "Live every day as if its your last, because one day you are bound to be right"
They are great words,whoever said it. Karma + Peace folks.

Starr

April 17, 2009

08:45 AM

That is a friggin awesome post Sam.

Thankyou

SLR

April 17, 2009

08:49 AM

My father is dying, he has no friends, has alienated his family and is a miserable misanthrope that is riddled with regret.

The only contact with has with people other than hospital staff are daily phone calls from a woman (mum) he left when I was born, and weekly calls from me.

I don't think he really understands that having people care about you dying necessitates some effort on your behalf. Not just picking up the phone after 20 years and saying "I'm dying".

M

April 17, 2009

09:12 AM

Grief of any kindtakes a toll. elf medication, sleepless nights and the need to wallow are all a part of it. It is also very different for each of us. We go through the phase of doing oinly what we really have to in order to function at the most basic level through the eat, sleep, repeat mode. There may be some vague attempt to work and it is not always of any great quality.

Morgan Tsvangirai and his wife are admirable in that they were united in their belief that their country could do better than Mugabe. They also knew that their lives were in danger all the time and they persisted in their belief.

I guess in light on my current situation it doesn't matter who would go first as long as it is peaceful. I know I am loved by the not so new guy and I do my best to know I love him. We don't go to be angry and we don't leave the house without saying goodbye with a kiss. It may not be like that forever and I am determined it will be like that for as long as possible.

Too many people regret what they didn't say or don't say or do before their beloved dies or goes away. I don't want to be one of them.

Lisa J

April 17, 2009

09:31 AM

As someone who husband died I can say all that you have written is absolutely true.

I have been through hell and back this past year but I know I am a stronger woman for it. Yes I have my issues to deal with but I find I am much more open to things and realising I have little control over life makes me want to live it to the best of my abilities. I want to live without fear and live with joy...

I have no advice for people in my situation. Unfortunately the old adage- one day at a time- while it sounds horrible in the midst of grief is so true.

And to answer Daniel at 9.29 pm.
During the worst of the grief I wished I had never met my husband. But as time goes on I can remember the good times and one day I hope to find someone else I can love and who loves me again...

just a thought (the one with the great stash of chocolate)

April 17, 2009

09:35 AM

wonder if it feels so bad, that you're better off having not entered into the relationship?

* Posted by: Daniel on April 16, 2009 9:29 PM

Daniel, Daniel, Daniel...I played the Garth Books song "The Dance" at my husbands funeral and in my heart truly believed what the words are saying. What was, was and even at the darkest hour, when I was alone and had to make the decision on when enough was enough and to let go, I still was grateful for that time. I would not have wished, EVER, that I did enter into this relationship, and yes he was the one and each day when I see my children my heart aches for their loss and mine, but without him, I wouldn't have all the wonderful memories that we shared over 22 years, or my fantastic children who, day in and day out remind me of what a fantastic father and husband he was.

In short Daniel,it is always worth it.

HIM

April 17, 2009

09:56 AM

The older I get the more I realise I have had an easy life.

I do not know loss on such a scale and do wonder how I will handle it when I do.
To be positive in a life free from any great difficulty is no great feat.

newbie

April 17, 2009

10:09 AM

I lost my best friend to a brain tumour 18 months ago. Took a year to kill her, the last few months left her physically a vegetable - is the most traumatic thing I've expeienced to date. I still struggle with the fact that she is not there for me to cry on her shoulder, laugh with her, walk balmoral beach on wintery sunday mornings, watch her gargle yoghurt, witness her attempts to eat as many steamed pork buns at yum cha as humanly possible and come up with new words to add to the english language - who else will tell me to have a 'splendiforous' day???? A single mum who left behind an almost 4 year old son - he will never know first hand the spectacular woman who is his mum. Sometimes life is horrible isn't it... I smile now though when I see tubs of yoghurt in the supermarket.

RockChick

April 17, 2009

10:32 AM

Great post Sam.

I have spent most of my life being worried/scared about my mother passing away and your words have encouraged me to live each day more in appreciation, rather than fear, so thank you. She was diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer when I was 10. I am now 29 and she has been diagnosed another 2 times with secondary breast cancers (spread to her lungs) over the past 20 years.

Every time she has fought the diagnosis with strength, and although she has gone through chemo, radiation, a mastectomy and lumpectomies she remains an absolute pillar of my family and a daily inspiration to everyone who knows her.

For the past 2 years she has also ‘shaved her head for a cure’ to raise money for leukaemia sufferers and she also does volunteer work a couple of days a week and looks after her sister who has just had a double mastectomy and is undergoing chemo. This is despite her personally suffering from depression and also terrible bone pain from her cancer medication. Absolutely amazing and I hope I can one day be just a fraction of the woman she is.

Make the most of your time with your loved ones people and give thanks for what you do have (and for those who have lost, appreciate what you once had and remember with love and fondness). Life’s too short.

Reefer

April 17, 2009

10:38 AM

"...it makes you question the concepts of an orderly universe and a just God."

How could you not question this. The Universe is certainly not orderly in terms of events and if you happen to believe in god(s) there is absolutely zero evidence that he/she/it is just. I mean, look around you.

drone

April 17, 2009

10:45 AM

Sometimes I think I waste a bit too much time reading AMAL (although it is the only blog I bother with)...then I read today's post and comments & was moved by some of the stories here...

I, for one, feel it is good to be reminded about what is important
in life...

Thanks. Peace & Love to All.

tb

April 17, 2009

10:51 AM

There is a quote I heard once, " everybody is alone - but if everybody is alone then we are all in it together."

I don't really know anything about losing a loved one, maybe I am blessed or maybe I am cursed? What I do know is that close friends of mine who have lost partners, mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters have all fond memories of these people. They do feel alone, they do feel exposed and they feel grief beyond anything I would ever be able to relate to, however one of my friends said, if anything; it's real!

I wish one day to have love you have felt for your significant other, I will one day be able to experience.

All I can say is find a way to grieve and not bottle it up. Which ever way you want to grieve is right for you and don't let anyone else tell you otherwise.

For me, attending 2 funerals in the space of 3 months had my nose spontaneously gushing blood. Never expected stress to surface like that.

Also for those people who know people "on their way out"... don't focus on their death and how you might feel about it (how do you think that makes THEM feel?), enjoy the time you have with them right now.

sunny

April 17, 2009

11:37 AM

Posted by: firstday on April 16, 2009 11:26 PM
"but these days I consider him to be a shooting star, whose light dazzled and delighted for a short time, leaving me thankful for having seen it, rather than mourning its passing."

That is beautiful.

wilow

April 17, 2009

11:54 AM

i frequently frighten myself with the thought of losing more of my loved ones. Having already buried both my parents and my only brother I am no stranger to grief but there is something truly terrifying about the idea of my amazing partner dying.

Recently I was on a long run and, in the quiet of the jungle before the sun rose my mind wandered into a 'what if' moment that invloved both of my girls being killed - I had to stop and simply disolved into tears and sobs and the best I could do after that was to walk home in a state of shock - please dont make me do this, please dont make me give another eulogy.

I live in Singapore and last night I was gobsmacked by the ad which is now on youtube - please watch it - a fine and empathetic sentiment that we could all learn something from

Timely too. This Monday would have been my dad's 59th birthday. He died suddenly 5 years ago. My stepmum had already been through a lot, losing her 20 year old son in a car accident 10 years ago.

But she has gotten through all this, amazing strength. Not sure if she will ever marry again, but she's only young - just turned 50.

My stepbrother had a girlfriend when he died, who I believe suffered a miscarriage after his death. She has gone on to marry a lovely guy, and they are planning a family. She always remembers my stepmum at Christmas and her birthday, which is lovely.

I have been to so many funerals in my life, all but 2 of them close family members, and understand the meaning of "life's too short". I have finally found the man I want to spend the rest of my life with, and my biggest fear is losing him too soon - I have seen it happen too many times. Its taken a huge leap of faith to let him into my heart, knowing that there is a very real possibility that tragedy can strike at any time.

So we make each day count. And I feel blessed to know this kind of love.

KLMatsalleh

April 17, 2009

12:18 PM

Seeing what happened to my Dad when my mum died within 6 weeks of diagnosis of brain cancer after 44 years of marriage scares the shit our of me. I do not know what I would do if something happened to my soul mate (married 25 yrs in July) - I hope I go first!!!!

Misty

April 17, 2009

12:33 PM

Worst bloody nightmare I've ever had was where my partner was killed in an accident...he's had some near-misses as a tradie, but every day I'm simply thankful when he makes it home in one piece.

k8

April 17, 2009

01:01 PM

Ah Sam, you've made me cry at work again you bugger!

k8sm8 was in a relationship for 25 years until his partner passed away 4 years ago. We have been together for a year now, and her memory is welcome in our home. They loved each other for half a lifetime and without her he would not be the man he is. I am glad that she was a part of her life, and I am even more glad that he was able to last through the agony of losing her and is now happy again.

For any of you who - like me - are lucky enough to have someone love you after they have already lost such a deep love, learn to embrace their past as well as your own. I can't deny that sometimes I'm terribly envious of what they had together, and when I remember watching his agony after her death sometimes I wonder if it's possible for anyone (including him) to ever love me that much. But the truth is that our life now is wonderful, and his loss makes us both even more conscious of the need to enjoy every single moment together - you never know which one will be your last.

Lotus - if your father knows that he is surrounded by your love he will find the strength. Just be there for him.

Harrie O

April 17, 2009

01:33 PM

Don't you realise that your feelings are only self pity and very selfish. You miss having the other person around. Everyone's stay on earth is transient, some shorter than others. You choose to be be as you are and you could choose to not be grieving. Some short grieving is healthy but anything prolonged is sick and needs prompt treatment for recovery so that one can live a normal life.
The trouble is that nowadays everyone is protected from the realities of nature and cannot cope when things don't go nicely for them.
Grow up and get going again.
Remember that there is always someone whom is worse off than yourself, so you should be thankful.

SLR

April 17, 2009

02:01 PM

Posted by: Harrie O on April 17, 2009 1:33 PM

Do you write hallmark cards? That was a beautiful sentiment.

Next time I go to a funereal (which should be pretty soon) I'll be sure to pass on you last line to the saddest person there.

Huskynik

April 17, 2009

02:14 PM

Harrie O, you're a fool.

"The trouble is that nowadays everyone is protected from the realities of nature"

People "nowadays" cope no less worse than in whatever time came before "nowadays." People still dealt with depressive episodes in much the same way as they do now.

"Remember that there is always someone whom is worse off than yourself, so you should be thankful."

You're right. You can't get much worse than being dead, can you?

Grieving takes a lot more effort than "choosing" not to grieve. Most people simply cannot flick their emotions on or off at will, but I'd be interested to hear your authorative position on just what, exactly, is a "normal" life?

dmt

April 17, 2009

02:36 PM

There are some beautiful stories in this blog. Thank you all.

k8

April 17, 2009

02:57 PM

Posted by: Harrie O on April 17, 2009 1:33 PM

I didn't know that it was possible to come up with something that makes "HTFU" sound empathetic.

Niente

April 17, 2009

03:07 PM

I haven't lost anyone really close to me yet, unless you include pets. Even thinking of losing any of my family makes me teary. It's for this reason i try to spend time with my elderly parents while i can because one day they won't be there. Even though they fight all the time, they love each other and i worry that they won't cope when the other goes.

For those who say: 'better to have loved, than not loved at all', I say, you can't miss what you've never had.

earth angel

April 17, 2009

03:16 PM

Posted by: Huskynik on April 17, 2009 2:14 PM

I wouldn't expect an intelligent answer. He's obviously got the EQ of a house brick.

Harrie O: the ability to be able to love someone enough that you grieve at their passing IS normal human behaviour. To be able to switch your emotions off (if you even have any) is the epitome of selfishness.

Can anyone explain why I'm bothering to feed the troll....?

Lin

April 17, 2009

03:24 PM

I don't who said it first but the quote I always remember is "Grief is the price we pay for love"

And it's worth every penny.

Bilby

April 17, 2009

03:36 PM

Posted by: Lotus on April 16, 2009 10:26 PM

Hi Lotus. I've got a little story for you. 60 odd years ago, my dad was married to a woman that he came over on the boat with. They split when he went to war, and by the time he got back she was married to someone else. Over the years they stayed in contact and I suspect that for dad she was the one. She died early last year, and their son (my half brother) rang to tell dad. A few short months later, dad left us as well. It was very sad, but it was also what he wanted. His life, his death, his choice. I would have loved for him to stick around and meet his second grand daughter, but that was not to be.

SLR

April 17, 2009

03:47 PM

Posted by: Niente on April 17, 2009 3:07 PM

I was on the receiving end of long tale of wow from a work collegue on a recent death in her family. I was empathising, assuring her I understood some part of her pain as two extremely close friends had died.

Turned out she was talking about her dog.

jojo

April 17, 2009

03:56 PM

When I first read about Susan's death it ripped at my heart but it felt a world away.

But then I read their two daughters live in Australia, one working up the street from me.

That puts a new light on all the anonymous faces I see on the street every day.

H

April 17, 2009

04:29 PM

firstday on April 16, 2009 11:26 PM, "these days I consider him to be a shooting star, whose light dazzled and delighted for a short time, leaving me thankful for having seen it, rather than mourning its passing."
That is so beautiful...

For those like Daniel and Niente who suggest its better never to love than experience the pain of losing your loved one, I think firstday's words could convince you otherwise.

Im not sure why some people experience so much grief in their lives and others live life without grief touching them much at all. Its completely indiscriminate and unpredictable - a kind of bad luck lottery. All I know is that you can't possibly live a worthwhile life avoiding the prospect of giving yourself completely to someone in love. We all need to experience it, even if that means it ends in agonising grief. As the man Albert Einstein laid it down, "Only a life lived for others is a life worthwile."
I really believe that.

Also, to all those who shared their stories of loss - It suprised and overwhelmed me to see how many of you have known such sadness in your lives. Thankyou so much for sharing, it touched me and also importantly reminded me of how much I have to be grateful for...

x

aggy

April 17, 2009

04:40 PM

My father died suddenly when I was 10 months old, leaving my mother with me, a 3 year old and 6 step children. To this day I still don't think she has grieved. She didn't have time, she just had to get on with caring for her family, working 2 jobs, going to uni. She never remarried, or even went on a date. She is alone now at 67. I know very little about my father as shen never even talked about him. I have to rely on my siblings for that. I do know that she made remarkable sacrifices to be with him, her own parents refused to attend her wedding to a coloured man in the 1960s, especially a divorced one 16 years her elder! Losing him was a defining thing for her. Its been hard for us, knowing that she never quite recovered, I've never wuite known how I feel as I was so young. I don't miss him as a person, but I miss that he wasn't around. Its so important to grieve...my mother is emotionally crippled because she has bottled it all up for 36 years. I know she loves me but she has never told me. Its made my own marriage a struggle in terms of expressing my feelings, but I am working hard at it. I make sure that my husband and son always know I love them.

Direct

April 17, 2009

04:57 PM

I was on the receiving end of long tale of wow from a work collegue on a recent death in her family.

Posted by: SLR on April 17, 2009 3:47 PM

Yeah, I get long tales of wow from my mates too. Endless talking about tanking, raiding, drops and ninjas. Gawd I hate World of Warcraft.

Serf

April 17, 2009

10:31 PM

Last month was the 10th anniversary of my mother's death.
I still haven't managed to sort her ashes. Can't decide where to put them.

Lotus

April 17, 2009

11:32 PM

Posted by: k8 on April 17, 2009 1:01 PM

I will do my best, and hope that's enough.

Posted by: Bilby on April 17, 2009 3:36 PM

Thank you for sharing that, Bilby. I think one of the hardest parts is accepting the choices they make, when you wish they would choose to handle things differently. But it's their life to live, so I guess we can only support them in whatever way we can.

Harrie O

April 18, 2009

12:38 AM

Telling everyone that you feel so sad is just another way of seeking attention. This feeds on itself and gives rise to the victim syndrome. It's great being the centre of attention with people fawning over the bereaved. Just read all the expressions of sympathy above and you will see that my words are true.
If the dead could comment I am sure that they would say something to the effect that 'Oh gawd, look at that. I am the one who suffered and look who is getting all the sympathy!'
If anyone uses my death as a means of eliciting sympathy I will come back and haunt them!

Yossy

April 18, 2009

12:50 AM

"the reason Tsvangirai was bought into the government was"

Bought!? Freudian slip mate?

just a thought (with the stash of chocolate)

April 18, 2009

03:08 AM

Posted by: k8 on April 17, 2009 1:01 PM

k8 those times when you are not sure that your partner will love you as much as he did his late partner, let me just say this as being the one who was left the widow.

I am lucky enough to have love again (I was only 39 when my husband died and I waited over 3 years after the death of my husband to even venture out into the dating world again), which every day I thank my lucky stars for, and although I can never love my new partner the way I did my late partner, I can love him as much, it is just a different type of love (maybe from a different place in my heart/head). It is no better, nor worse than the love I still have for my late partner, but it is different. That being said, my new partner also reaps the benefit of what my loss taught me in regards to what is important in life and what is not and I can tell you that things like taking out the garbo have no place on that list. So hopefully you will also have the benefit of someone who has lost a love but who knows what is important and will make sure everyday of your life together how important you are to him. Good Luck

The trouble is that nowadays everyone is protected from the realities of nature and cannot cope when things don't go nicely for them.
Grow up and get going again.
Remember that there is always someone whom is worse off than yourself, so you should be thankful.

Posted by: Harrie O on April 17, 2009 1:33 PM

Yeah, I am thankful every day that my children were left at the ripe ol age of 11 and 14 without a father who adored them. That they had to opportunity to go to the hospital one day thinking life was just grand and then two months later their father dies of a cancer he didn't deserve. Yeah I guess they should just grow up and get on with it.

You Harrie O should get your head out of your arse and until you have dealt with a loss such as this keep your damn mouth shut. I didn't choose to cry, grieve, be angry, feel deserted or hate the world or God for what happened. What I did choose to do was take some time for myself, be there for my children and when I (and me alone) decided the time was right to rejoin society and test the waters again. And to this day, there are time the tears will fall and the smiles will come without warning. Or maybe my son will say or do something that is the carbon copy of his father and whatever emotion I show, is my emotion and people like you can go on with your emotionless little lives never knowing what is important and what isn't. Grieve, hell yes, life gets easier, somewhat, forget what we had, NEVER...

Kim

April 18, 2009

04:06 AM

It is so hard to loose a spouse. I know that when my father died, I didn't expect it to be so hard for my mom, but it really was--she lost the man that she spent her whole adult life with, who she had children with, who knew her better than anyone else. She actually inspired me to write a book about her, because I don't think many people understand what really goes on behind grief.

just a thought (the one with the great stash of chocolate)

April 18, 2009

07:33 AM

If anyone uses my death as a means of eliciting sympathy I will come back and haunt them!

* Posted by: Harrie O on April 18, 2009 12:38 AM

Again, another STUPID remark. I still to this day feel very uncomfortable when someone says "I'm sorry" when they learn that I am widowed. And, no I am not the one who tells them such. What, do you think we wear a sign on our head stamped widow, or maybe a T-shirt counting the number of days since my husband died? You really have no concept of death and what it does to those left behind. I never asked for sympathy I was too busy being a mother to my two children and helping them to cope wit their loss. But, I will certainly tell you this, NOTHING upsets me more than the people who are your friends and family who act like this wonderful person never existed because "they" can't bear to talk about. Bullshit, I say, nothing warms my heart more than to hear his name or to hear someone say that something one of my children has done would make their father proud.

Many people grieve, at their own pace, and yes it is perverted to try and get sympathy off someones death, but for your to just act like that is the normal operating procedure for anyone who has lost a loved one has to be one of the stupidest things I have read in a long time (and that even includes the rants by petersmh).

As for clamoring for attention, obviously making heartless, inane remarks about people garnering attention through the death of a loved one, is an easy to get attention...It certainly worked for you.

Dion

April 18, 2009

01:25 PM

Harrie O,

I wonder if you could be more wrong – I've come across Just A Thought on other blogs and assume that her motives are similar to mine, I would want everyone to know that my deceased spouse was extraordinary, wonderful and adored.

From the prism of our various shared griefs we want to impart a message so profoundly simple it is inane – make the most of the time you have together, take nothing for granted and find beauty in love.

Contrary to your assertions we are all moving on because we have to, because we are caring, strong and normal people. Unfortunately you are not; you are a poor shallow stunted and sadder individual than you are aware of.

You speak of how life shelters us from reality but you know nothing of how others suffer. You don't know us, how can you? You probably don't know yourself.

Anyway, what we have done is to respond to the blog appropriately, in this case the blog is a catharsis and has touched people who are capable of experiencing a range of normal emotions – we are sharing – this is the opposite of being selfish.

There was nobody who was worse off than my wife, she had a horrible death, there are plenty of people who are worse off than me, but there aren't many who are worse off than you, but you don't know it.

So, Harrie O, it is clear that it is your internal life which is both stunted and unexamined. You assert that the bereaved indulge in the Victim Syndrome, if we want to bandy psycho-babble try these phrases:

I would like to say hurry Harrie help is available, but this is a condition which is generally considered untreatable – so in reality there are few people worse of than you, but don't worry too much about creating selfish sufferers of the victims syndrome, nobody would miss you or mourn you.

Ta

D.

just a thought (the one with the great stash of chocolate)

April 18, 2009

01:59 PM

Posted by: Dion on April 18, 2009 1:25 PM

Me thinks it is a bit to late for Harrie O, Dion. But I am sure with their attitude no one will use them to get attention when they die because with their attitude no one will be there at the end..

Carrie

April 18, 2009

06:29 PM

I'm not even on topic here. Just finished reading The Lost Boys and, well, everything has taken on a different hue. Great, honest and at times poetic writing, but also a slightly disturbing insight into the male condition. It's all starting to make sense now ... just wish I'd worked it out three children ago. Still, there is hope for modern relationships if men choose to be as introspective as Sam. Most aren't wired that way, though. Most aren't meaning-seeking journos, just heat-seeking missiles. Anyway ... ANYWAY ... the fact that I'm even writing this on a Saturday night speaks volumes about the joys of modern marriage and family life.

Thanks Carrie. The next one will be a bit happier. Kind of. - Sam

Sunnyside

April 18, 2009

09:51 PM

My husband's dad died fairly young 1.5 years ago - 3 months from diagnosis to death - it took everyone's breath away. He and my mother in law had been together since both were 13 y.o. and were still best friends. She is a wreck and I'm constantly worried she'll self-harm. And then I wonder how I'd be if my husband was taken, and I'm scared. He's my best friend too.

Harrie O

April 18, 2009

11:37 PM

See!!!

Oh poor me! what will I do???

This all reinforces my point of view.

just a thought (the one with the great stash of chocolate)

April 19, 2009

07:48 AM

Posted by: Harrie O on April 18, 2009 11:37 PM

As it does my opinion of you

Harrie shut your O

April 19, 2009

10:43 AM

Harrie shut your O.

Sammy01

April 19, 2009

04:01 PM

"survived assassination"? I think you'll find he survived an assassination ATTEMPT. No one survives assassination.

Puma

April 19, 2009

06:58 PM

Thanks everyone for sharing your stories.

What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. You should be very proud of the strength you have gained through doing the hard yards of accepting, and then sorting out your feelings whilst still trying to live life. Deaths or divorces are horrible things I am sure. Never had someone close to me die, and I am not sure how I would handle such a thing happening. If my dog died I would be mortified (even though she managed to jump 2m off the ground and take a good bra off the line and chew it to pieces - lucky she has the house to hide under).

tidal

April 19, 2009

11:01 PM

Telling everyone that you feel so sad is just another way of seeking attention. This feeds on itself and gives rise to the victim syndrome. It's great being the centre of attention with people fawning over the bereaved. Just read all the expressions of sympathy above and you will see that my words are true.

Oh poor me! what will I do???

I think that "Poor me, poor my children, what will I do without this person I loved in my life?" is actually a pretty normal response to having someone close to you die.

seriously - condolences at a funeral are a pretty bleak kind of attention, especially after years of love and real, long term, every day attention from the person you love.
I'm really at a loss to see how anyone would feel that "its great to be the centre of attention"- at a funeral! - as they struggle to process the fact they will never see,or touch, or hear their partner,or their child or their parent again.

The trouble is that nowadays everyone is protected from the realities of nature and cannot cope when things don't go nicely for them.

Based on your posts, I think that you have been protected from the 'realities of nature'. Have you never felt love, Harrie? Had your heart broken? Felt sadness? or loss? felt bad for someone who was hurt?
Grieving,(and being incapacitated by grief) loss, compassion, sadness, and love are 'realities of nature' (and have been for hundreds of years before 'nowadays')They are also part of coping with and adjusting to living without the person that you love.

Where did you find your information on the 'victim syndrome'? sounds like some kind of pop psych jargon you don't really understand.
A person is not a 'victim' of another's death.
But their loss is still real, profound, life changing and painful.
To respond to someone who is grieving with compassion is normal.
To respond by saying "You're just trying to get attention" is puerile.

doco lover

April 20, 2009

01:40 AM

CBD Sonja April 17, 11:29

"Also for those people who know people "on their way out"... don't focus on their death and how you might feel about it (how do you think that makes THEM feel?), enjoy the time you have with them right now."

Respectfully, I have to disagree with you, and wish to respond perhaps to ease the burden that such expectations can place on others who are going through just that. I feel you have contradicted yourself, as in your previous statement you advised to not bottle up your feelings, find a way to grieve and whatever works for you is right. This I agree with.

Grief is extraordinarily complex, as are each of the situations that evoke grief. Grief is not just brought on by death or illness, it can be brought on by losing hopes and dreams, grieving what you thought your life would be, losing friendships, home, way of life, and the destruction of idealistic beliefs. Not facing grief, and going through it will cause more problems, than the initial catalyst for that grief.

As for your statement - enjoy them while you have them - how do you think it make them feel?... I think back on a documentary I saw. It was about children who were sold by their parents into slavery. They followed the children as they were rescued from their situations and reunited with their parents. It was interesting to watch the children's anticipation and joy at being reunited with their parents, and then shortly afterward their expressions changed to hurt and confusion. Yes they were back with their families, but now they were faced with the complex emotions of being abandoned and being face to face with the very person who abandoned them to such a harsh reality, when they were the ones that they were to trust completely for love and protection. Imagine the complexities of the grief and emotions they would have to work through. To say, "You are back with your family, enjoy that you are back, and are no longer is slavery." would be naive at best. There would be very real emotions, feelings of betrayal maybe even hatred to work through.

I have talked with many people over the years, as I am someone who is very interested in "life" stories. I will never forget speaking with one elderly lady about her belated husband, who had died months earlier. I extended my heartfelt condolences to her and she abruptly told me not to. She then launched into stories of how he terrorized her, through physical and emotional abuses. Of course being from the days of little opportunity for women to leave, she endured extraordinary hardship. She was finally at peace. Her husband died of lengthy illness, and I can only imagine how she would feel having others say, "Enjoy your time with him." without knowing the full extent of their relationship, and her life. I think this is why silence and listening ear is best when offering comfort, rather than trying to come up with canned, redundant, phrases, and expectations.

Going back to my earlier example: imagine the same boy rescued from slavery, in a grocery store with his mother. He throwing a tantrum, and lashing out at her... only to have observers voice their disapproval in his hearing..."That little s*** how dare he act like that. Someone ought to...."

The Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi comes to mind.

Moongirl

April 20, 2009

02:40 AM

If anyone uses my death as a means of eliciting sympathy I will come back and haunt them!

Posted by: Harrie O on April 18, 2009 12:38 AM

Your statement makes the assumption that there will actually be people that you leave behind who give a damn about your passing Harrie O. Don't fret too much baby. With an emotionally stunted attitude like yours, people will probably breathe a sigh of relief.

Shelby

April 20, 2009

11:48 AM

Posted by: Harrie O on April 17, 2009 1:33 PM

"Don't you realise that your feelings are only self pity and very selfish. You miss having the other person around."

Damn straight Harrie O. You also ponder your own mortality and seriously question what, if anything, lies beyond. It's all very deep and human stuff.

k8

April 20, 2009

12:08 PM

Posted by: just a thought (with the stash of chocolate) on April 18, 2009 3:08 AM

Have you been spying on us???

What you describe is exactly what has happened. Neither of us sweat the small stuff, and we are there for each other whenever the small stuff threatens to intrude. Every single day k8sm8 makes it clear to me how much he loves me, and how lucky he feels to have survived the bleak years and found me.

It's a bit humbling at times.

You sound like a wonderfully strong and supporting woman, and I'm glad to have 'met' you. Your children sound like they will grow up with a healthy respect for the memory of their father, and will always be free to enjoy those memories.

Amanda

April 20, 2009

02:47 PM

Agreed.

Based on my experience of being the grieving loved one left behind, your role is actually to make everyone else feel better, acknowledge them for coming along and doing their bit, reminisce with them about the dead person to help their closure......when maybe all you really feel like doing is running away and sit staring at the wall for a few days.

Aphra

April 21, 2009

11:04 AM

Interesting post, but one small flaw . . . No one has ever survived assassination. You survive an assassination ATTEMPT.

Tootz

April 21, 2009

01:54 PM

"...survived assassination..."??

Christine de Brito

April 22, 2009

03:10 PM

Sam, I don't read your blog every day and came across this by accident. Your references to me are touching but so true. I just count my blessings every day that I did meet my "one and only" Not everyone does, so to have shared a slab of my life with mine just makes me more fortunate than many other people. As one of the posts observed, grief never goes away but you certainly learn to live with it.

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Sam de Brito has spent more than a decade writing for TV, film and newspapers. In his first book, No Tattoos Before You’re Thirty, he offers advice to his unborn children. In his latest offerings, The Lost Boys and Building a Better Bloke, he takes the pulse of Aussie manhood. Now it’s your turn as he expounds on the business of being a bloke.